


That's Not Really Her Style

by eruditeprincess



Series: Echosmith Songfics [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Uglies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2633849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruditeprincess/pseuds/eruditeprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another AU based off of Cool Kids by Echosmith.</p>
<p>It was a week before she turned Pretty that she first met him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Not Really Her Style

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need prior knowledge of Uglies to read this fic. I don't own Uglies or The 100, and Cool Kids is advisable to listen to while reading this. Enjoy! Next up is probably a Selection AU.

Waiting until she was eighteen to have the operation sucked. She was going to have it at sixteen, like all of the other good little uglies in her dorm, but she got arrested. Only her. Spending a year and eleven months in a cell, guarded by Specials (who didn't hold back when trying to subdue her at some points, leaving her with scars running down her arms and back), had sucked. Now, a mere two weeks before her eighteenth birthday, she was released and sent to Earth dorm, set to wait for her birthday.

 

Tonight, though, a week before her operation, she sat in a bush in New Pretty Town, cursing herself for trying to make this stupid trip. Everyone was on high alert, apparently, leading to more wardens being out and her being stuck in some stupid bush with him. The Pretties were stumbling around but somehow still keeping to the straight line of the path. She couldn't stand it; if these people were going to stumble and be stupid, at least go off the path. He hadn't realised she was there yet, she realised, as she heard him take in a breath as one of the Pretties, a brown haired, blue eyed beauty. She coughed, and he jumped slightly, before looking over at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Same as you. Bubblehead watching. I'll be one of those next week," he looked over at her and she chuckled at his expression.

"What? I know, I'm older than the standard Bubblehead. I'm eighteen next week."

"So am I," he said, and she smiled at him as he continued, "they put me in Earth dorm because I refused my operation until my sister turned sixteen. She turned sixteen a month ago and they can only fit in my procedure on my eighteenth birthday. I want to look out for my sister, but now she's Pretty it's harder."

"I'm Clarke."

"Bellamy. What you doing having your op at eighteen, hey?"

"I was arrested. A trick went wrong. I managed to bring part of the city grid down and the city interface went crazy. Everyone's interface rings died for a day. They locked me up and prevented me from having the operation until I was eighteen."

 

The night wore on and eventually they hoverboarded across the river back to their dorm. She flew up to her window and found out his room was next to hers, a fact that made her very happy for some reason.

 

They kept meeting up in the dorm (there were no lessons going on anymore, seeing as it was summer and she was almost eighteen and not required to attend any classes). He took her hoverboarding one day, and it rained, soaking their dorm uniforms and leaving them both laughing as her hair came loose from the braid that held it together originally and sprayed him with water as she flew around, and his curls were soaked and pressed to his head, and they both fell off their hoverboards more than once. He took her hand as they walked back to the dorm, her hands chilled from the rain, and she smiled gratefully. He stayed in her dorm room that night, and he kissed her hair as a sort of goodnight, hugging her.

 

Another day, they got permission to take some food out and have a picnic, and they lay outside until fireflies danced lazily in the air and they watched the stars, her laying on top of him, and they talked. He told her about Octavia and how he had practically brought his little sister up, as his parents were out a lot, being big scientists on the Pretty Committee. She told him about her mother and how she had lectured Clarke about the job of scientists and the latest looks with the Pretty Committee. Clarke's father was a warden, keeping the peace in New Pretty Town.

 

Two days before their operations, he kissed her. Her lips were soft, and she had deepened it. He had laid next to her afterwards, her hair dishevelled and her eyes bright, and he wished that she didn't see herself as an Ugly, because she was beautiful. He wished they didn't have to become Pretty, but he forgot as soon as she kissed him again, her blonde hair brushing his face. Her eyes were a pure blue, innocent and youthful, and he thought they were beautiful. Their eyes met, and he saw her eyes change and flit around, studying him.

 

He saw her scars that evening, long raised lines running up and down her back and tiny white lines littering her arms, and while he felt like he should be repulsed by them, he found them fascinating. He ran his fingers over them and she sucked in a breath. Two days, he thought, and she would forget all of this and be Pretty and he might not see her again. Hell, he might not even recognise her in her Pretty form. She dragged him over to the bed and he lay next to her as she let him strip off his dorm uniform, and she traced his chest, feeling his ribs and talking to him about them, if only to stop the silence between them from consuming them. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut in his bed, the day before their operations, and he couldn't believe he only met her the week before. He supposed that she wouldn't recognise him when she became Pretty, as he wouldn't look like him anymore. It was one of the things he hated about the operation; the fact it took you and made you completely different.

 

He held her hand in the waiting room, and she smiled at him. He had a brown haired doctor come out to meet them both, and she fixed her gaze on Clarke. "I'm Doctor Abigail Griffin and I'll be performing your procedure, Ms," she consulted her clipboard and the recognition came to her face as she stared at her, "Clarke?"

"Mom?"

"As I was saying, I will be making you Pretty. If you'd like to follow me, Ms Griffin, we can start in an hour."

Clarke leant over and whispered in Bellamy's ear, smiling. "See you on the other side."

 

"Bellamy-wa!" Octavia's voice greeted him as he exited the hospital, and he grinned at her and the guy standing next to her, "Bellamy, this is Lincoln. Lincoln, this is my brother, Bellamy. Isn't it so bubbly we are all together now?"

"Yeah, Tavvy-la," he saw a Pretty girl come out of the hospital, around the same age as him, and she looked confused. He went over to her and smiled, recognising the blue eyes and blonde hair of this girl. 

"Clarke? Is that you?" 

"I'm Clarke. I remember you from way back then. I'm supposed to find Cleopatra Mansion, number 392." 

"I'm Bellamy. Cleopatra Mansion 394. Maybe I'll see you at a bash sometime." 

"Maybe," she echoed, and he realised she didn't remember, and he suddenly felt alone.


End file.
